Taste
by mrs.salvatore39
Summary: post 3x21, pre 3x22. Damon invites Elena over for dinner, but they both sample more than they bargained for. two requests filled in one!


_a/n: kitchen smut is still one of my favorites to write, so when I receive these two requests I knew they would fit perfectly together and hopefully meet the needs of the readers that were kind enough to ask me to write for them. Happy reading._

_Dedicated to loveyoualways21 for wanting a peek into the Salvatore kitchen (we have yet to see on the show), and rebelliousheart for wanting Elena to stop pretending._

_p.s. not sure when I'm setting this exactly, but sometime between 2x21 and 2x22. _

TASTE

Damon couldn't believe that he had actually gotten Elena here, over to the Boarding House and in his kitchen willingly. He'd decided that after everything had happened the past few days, she deserved to be taken care of a little bit. She still seemed pretty weak from Klaus nearly draining her, and thanks to that he'd become even more protective of her. The Original was in his coffin, but living in Mystic Falls had taught them all the celebration of victory could not last forever. He'd wanted to have a whole victory party initially, but Stefan had opted out and slowly one by one the guest list and dwindled down to nothing except him and Elena. Not that he was complaining. Now he got to show off his cooking skills, got to have some actual time alone with her…and with the exception of Alaric showing up anytime soon and staking him, they were in the clear.

One night, that's all he wanted. Just one night.

Elena chewed the inside of her cheek almost unconsciously as she looked around the Salvatore kitchen. It seemed alarmingly large and impressive, especially since she and Damon were the only two in there. "It's funny, you having such a big kitchen when you don't need to eat real food."

Damon glanced over his shoulder at her, taking in the sight of her leaning against the kitchen table. It was getting warm outside, but still he wondered if she'd put on the sundress just to torture him. "Well, when this place was actually used as a Boarding House it came in handy. Now, I just love to cook." He shrugged, then as an afterthought, lowered his eyes to menacing slits but kept a smirk on his lips. "If you tell anyone that, I will have to kill you."

She laughed, dismissing him with a shake of her head and continued to admire her surroundings. "I can't believe I've never been in here before."

The walls were painted a warm color; somewhere between white and peach. The appliances we all state of that art and looked like they belonged on a fancy cooking show. Nothing but the best for the Salvatore men, she thought with a smile. The table she was currently leaning on was made of a beautiful oak color and could sit at least eight people if it needed to. The floor was hardwood as well, but a lighter color to match the walls. It was shockingly different from the rest of the house, seemingly to be the only room they had remodeled in the last century. "We've never really had time to just relax when you were here."

She nodded, pushing away from the table to see what he was doing at the sink. She watched his hands move impossibly fast as he chopped the vegetables for the salad. "Is it wrong of me to feel like I can't relax just yet?"

"No." Damon sighed, looking up at her. "It's a little sad maybe, but I can understand it. We've been on red alert for so long now all we can do is wait for the other shoe to drop."

She smiled. "Red alert? Really? A Star Trek reference?"

He grimaced and turned back to the vegetables. "There is a lot more to me than meets the eye Elena. Do you think I was too busy killing and pillaging for the last hundred years to sit and watch tv a few minutes every couple decades?"

Elena shook her head, leaning against the counter now to watch him. "Just what else don't I know about you?"

Damon paused, actually thinking about it. "I don't know…what do you know about me to begin with?"

Elena chewed the inside of her lip again, thinking. "I know all the 1864 history. I know you met Sage in 1912. I know you had a thing for Isobel for a whole five minutes in the 90's. I know you like reading classics and listening to rock music. You prefer bourbon over almost anything else, but if you really need a drink you will put up with rum."

"If I _really _need a drink." He agreed, stressing his displeasure.

She was quiet for a few more minutes, but nothing else came to her. "I guess that's it." she blushed, almost embarrassed. "I guess I don't really know all that much, do I?"

He shrugged, scooping up the carrots with his hands and depositing them in the bowl. Then he reached for the celery and started all over. "Most people don't really take the time to get to know me. It's alright."

"What do you know about me?" she dared, praying that he wouldn't beat her, but knowing that he would.

A smirk came over his lips, accepting the challenge. "I know you used to be a cheerleader, that before your parents accident you were quite the wild child. I know you and Matt grew up together, with Caroline and Bonnie. I know that Tyler had a thing for you in the seventh grade but Matt punched him and no one ever spoke of it again."

"Whoa wait!" Elena waved her hand. "What?"

Damon looked up, smiling like he owned the world. "Oh, did you not know that?"

"No." she gaped, shaking her head. "Are you being serious?"

"Serious as a heart attack." He winked, transferring the celery now and moving to the tomatoes.

She shook her head, wondering how he found that out and before her, and just what the hell other secrets he knew that she didn't. "Keep going."

With a sigh, Damon looked up; pretending to think really hard. "You wanted a little sister but got Jeremy instead so when he was five you dressed him up and did his makeup. You used to love horror movies but now you refuse to watch them. You used to read romance novels, but now you don't. You want to be a writer one day. Your favorite color is blue and your favorite song is the one we danced to at the Miss Mystic Falls pageant."

Now she really was gaping at him. "How do you know all that?"

"Jeremy told me about the makeup thing, completely traumatized him B.T.W. I saw the collection of movies downstairs and noticed the layer of dust on them. The first time I was in your room you had a shelf full of those smutty, drug store novels but after Stefan left you got rid of them. Your journal is attached to you like a third arm and you never go a minute without jotting something down at least on your phone to remember it later. I checked your Itunes most played, and that song is first, has been ever since that night."

"Stalker." She teased, not sure if his knowledge of her impressed her or terrified her. "You're wrong about the color though. I love red."

Damon paused, setting the knife down and moving to stand in front of her. Their eyes connected and Elena felt her face getting warm. She couldn't look away from him, couldn't stop the feeling of drowning as she looked into the light blue his eyes were colored today. They seemed to change with his mood and as he kept their gazes locked, she watched them darken. "Are you sure about that?"

Finally she shook her head, letting out the breath she didn't even know she'd been holding when he broke the connection. "Anything else I should know about myself?"

He stabbed a piece of tomato with the end of the knife and ate it off. "You are desperately in love with me." She wanted to smile, laugh, dismiss him…but she couldn't. She couldn't agree either and after a minute of staring at each other he shrugged. "That's alright, one day you'll figure it out."

"One day?" she looked down at her shoes, finding a scuff particularly interesting. "That could be any day. Years from now."

He nodded, rinsed his hands and then tossed the salad to mix it. "It could also be tomorrow. That's the beauty of the unknown, it could happen anytime, anyplace, anywhere."

His nonchalance about the whole subject baffled her and she watched, her mouth slightly open and he set the bowl on the counter. "You're really not going to push this?"

Damon sighed and stood straight, holding an oven mitt in his left hand. "Look Elena, I've learned a lot about you, and one of those things is that you can't be rushed. You're not ready to admit, to realize that you love me and you're certainly not going to do it with me constantly badgering you about it. If the pressure that I've been putting on you is the reason it's taken you this long already, believe me…I've learned my lesson."

He shrugged and pulled a box of lasagna from the cupboard. Was it the sudden relief that had her wishing he was back flirting with her, bothering her about her feelings? Was she really that ridiculous that the second she thought she might lose his interest she suddenly wanted it very badly? Would she then not want him again once she agreed that she loved him? Or was he simply using reverse psychology on her to drive her crazy to begin with? "You think you're so clever." She whispered with a smile, and he pretended not to hear her.

"Alright, since we're getting to know one another, and apparently ourselves…is there anything you would like to know about me?"

She thought for a moment, letting the whole 'love thing' go as he had. For the moment at least. "Everything." She admitted, looking up at him.

"Then this is going to be a very long dinner my dear."

INSERT LINE HERE

"Hold on, hold on." Elena forced her bite of lasagna down as she tried to breath, waving her fork in the air. "You're telling me you were blonde?"

Damon grimaced, stabbing at a leaf of lettuce. "It was the eighties. Don't judge."

Her face felt like it was going to split in half from her grin. "Oh, I'm judging."

"Next question." He glared at her, however couldn't help smiling with her. For the last hour they'd been going back and forth asking each other questions. He'd heard her laugh a few times over the past few years, but this night would have to be his favorite night of all, partly because she couldn't stop laughing.

"Let's start somewhere easy then. Where were you in the twenties?" She nearly wanted to lick the plate clean. The sauce Damon had made was incredible it took a lot of self control not to lick her fingers.

Damon paused, thinking for a moment. "Staying as far away from Stefan as possible." It seemed like an honest answer, but she wanted more. And she didn't want to talk about Stefan, it just reminded her of the drama they'd gone through and tonight was supposed to be a drama free night.

"Go on."

Damon knew she wasn't going to be satisfied until she got more out of him, so he leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. It didn't feel like an interrogation, but he did have to be careful what he said so that he didn't incriminate himself. "In the twenties, I spent a great deal of my time in Louisiana."

"Really?"

Damon shrugged. "It was the Jazz Age after all, for some at least we called it that. For others it was the Roaring Twenties. For me, it was…magic. Prohibition was a pain alright, but what they didn't realize until it was too late was, that making something illegal only made it more tempting."

"So you spent a lot of time in speakeasy's then?"

"Hunny, I ran one." Damon winked, sipping at his whiskey and Elena couldn't help picturing him a perfect black and white suit surrounded by beautiful women in fringe dresses all vying for his attention, his booze, his charm.

"Why does that not surprise me?" She smiled and he just shrugged.

"Of course, that decade wasn't all beauty and fun. There was the stock market crash. I remember, Wall Street was a mess. Literally."

"You were there?" Elena looked at him curiously, wondering just how many important events he'd been a part of throughout history.

He nodded, eyeing her plate and noticing that she was taking another helping of his lasagna. If the way to a woman's heart was through her stomach, he was making excellent progress. "I was also there for the first movie they released with sound. Finally, I could take a girl to the movie and not worry about her keeping quiet."

It took Elena a moment to figure out what he meant, and then her eyes went wide and she felt her face getting hot. "Oh."

Damon chuckled and swirled the amber liquid around in his glass for a few seconds before looking back up at her through his lashes. His head didn't move, but he did manage to see her entire face. "That decade fit you very well."

Elena thought back to the dance, to the white fringe dress she'd worn. Then she shook her head and put that night away in a dark corner of her mind. "I would have loved to seen you all dressed up."

Damon smirked, draining his glass. "Your eyes weren't for me that night. I doubt you would have noticed."

There it was again, the pain, the jealousy. She heard it in his voice everytime he talked about her and Stefan. She watched as he excused himself, going to the living room to get a fresh drink. She knew very well he had alcohol in here, but she said nothing. He needed the space, and she needed the minute to figure out what she was going to say next. No matter how hard she tried to put the past behind them, he kept bringing it back up. If all they'd wanted was a nice night, then why was he bringing up Stefan? _Because he wants you to decide what you want. Who you want. _She cursed her brain and shook her head. "Grab me one." She called loudly, knowing that he would probably hear her even if she whispered.

A minute later he was back, a second glass in his hand but with a surprise. He balanced champagne and two flutes as he entered, smiling at her. "I thought a little celebration was in order."

She laughed, getting up to take the glasses from him. "Open it."

He watched her smile for a second before working the cork off. It exploded with a 'pop' and she laughed as the foam spilled out over the top. They scrambled together, trying to catch it. Then he was taking the glasses from her, filling them and handing one of them back, his eyes suddenly a little more serious. "To winning this one."

"To winning this one." She agreed and let her flute clink against his.

Damon watched with careful eyes as Elena closed her lips around the crystal and drank a long sip of the champagne. She was practically glowing with relief, with joy. She was comfortable, she was happy, she was safe. But, there was something behind it all…something that was trying desperately to hide itself in her eyes. "My turn for a question."

She set the glass down at the table, sitting as he did. "Alright." She lifted a leg up onto the seat, propping her elbow on her knee. "Ask away."

"Do you remember the first time you saw me?"

"Of course." She smiled. "It was in the den."

Damon shook his head. "Not true."

Elena's brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm pretty sure it is."

"Do you remember the crow in the graveyard?"

Elena thought back, seeing the fog surrounding her, the crow on the gravestone, then the shape of the man hiding behind the statue of the angel as she ran away. "That was you."

He nodded, reaching for the bottle to fill her glass again. "The very first thing you ever said to me, was 'hi bird'."

Elena laughed and shook her head. "It's kinda creepy you can do that."

Damon shrugged and sat back, watching her. Memorizing every line of her face even though he could already see her perfectly everytime he closed his eyes. "I haven't done it in a long time. Haven't needed to."

"How long before we met did you watch me?"

"A few weeks." Damon avoided her eyes until he heard her short giggle.

"That's alright. Stefan followed me around for months trying to make sure that I wasn't Katherine."

"That doesn't surprise me." He shook his head and moved to refill his own glass.

"Am I anything like her?" It was a question that she had been afraid to ask ever since she'd learned who she was, what she was.

Damon set his glass down carefully, slowly and reached out a hand to her. She took it hesitantly and allowed him to pull her up. "Elena, listen to me. When I look at you, I don't see Katherine. Not anymore. You are beautiful like her, but even more so in your own right. If you were anything like her, at all you wouldn't be so torn between Stefan and I. You would simply have us both or leave us both."

"I can't lose you Damon, and I can't break the two of you up either."

Damon slid a finger under her chin when her eyes fell to the ground, guiding her face back up to his. "I'm not going to tell you that you don't have to choose, because you do. And soon, but just so you know, Stefan and I have an understanding. If you choose him, I will go. I will let you both live happily ever after and you won't ever hear from me again whether you remain human or turn. You can't keep us both Elena, it wouldn't be fair to the losing brother to have to sit here and watch the other be happy."

Elena tried to look down again, understanding but terrified of what it would mean not to have both brothers in her life. "What if I can't choose?"

Damon's eyes narrowed in pain and he dropped his hand, not touching her at all. They weren't even a inch apart but Elena felt suddenly very lonely and very cold. How had they gone from a wonderful dinner, to this? "Let's get this over with shall we?" He spoke gently, but his eyes were on fire.

She could tell how hard he was fighting with himself. "What do you mean?"

"It's always going to be Stefan, Elena. You said so yourself. There is no point in stringing everyone along when we all know the impending answer. There is no harm in following your heart, and it's clear that it's not leading you to me."

"Then how do you explain the last year?" she asked quietly, looking up at him. Her eyes begged him to convince her, to not let this go…but he couldn't stand it anymore. Couldn't stand one more minute of this back and forth.

"Circumstantial confusion." He shrugged, trying to play it off, like the connection they'd shared- the bond they formed meant nothing. That everything they'd gone through together since that first moment meant nothing.

"You don't mean that." She shook her head, both of them hearing the catch in her throat as she fought back tears.

"Elena." His voice soothed, his hands on either side of her face, cradling her head. He ached to touch her, he couldn't help it. She leaned into him, wanting more. Needing more. "You love Stefan."

She nodded, biting her lip. Her sight was losing focus as the tears she'd been warring with won and spilled over her eyes. "I do…but I'm _in _love with you."

Damon wouldn't let this happen, he couldn't let it happen. He would not allow himself to get his hopes up one more time for that face, for those eyes. "You, you don't know what you're talking about."

Elena was a little surprised by his denial, but really what else could she have expected from him? She deserved no less after everything she'd put him through. "I do, and I'll prove it."

Damon didn't have time to say anything else. Suddenly her strong little hands were fisting in his shirt, tugging him down to her level. She crushed her lips against his, nearly missing her target in her desperate attempt to display her passion. Damon grabbed her hips roughly in response, tugging her lower half against his and backing her against the table. He wasn't sure what this was, but damn did it ever feel good. So good, he would never have stopped if she didn't need air to breath. He kept track of her vital signs with half his mind as he reveled in the feel of her beneath his hands with the most of it. Her skin was tough, but soft and she turned to near putty beneath him when their tongues joined in the dance. He felt, rather than heard her moan mix with his as he stepped between her legs, her ankles locking behind him.

She didn't need to worry about him denying anything now. It was too late. If this was some horrid trick she was playing he would gladly step out into the sun without his daylight ring, but right now…this moment. It was perfect. She slid her hands down his arms, up under his shirt to feel the hard planes of his chest and stomach. She grinned against his lips as he growled her name, a wondrous reaction when she racked her nails down the length of his abs. She slid closer to the edge of the table, feeling the growing heat between their bodies as it became harder and harder for both of them to resist tearing the others' clothes off. With a quick shove, Damon pushed aside their dinner, sending a plate to the floor. It broke into a few pieces, leaving the remains of the salad on the floor.

She broke the kiss, looking down to see the mess he'd made. Instead of looking with her, his lips found a new spot to attack, a spot she didn't even know about yet. His teeth nipped, his tongue laved and she felt her eyes roll into the back of her head. "The table Damon." She managed to mumble out.

He only shook his head and rolled his hips against hers suggestively. "Leave it. I'll get it later." His tone was deep, demanding and authoritative, but she'd already forgotten all about the broken dish.

She attacked his neck the same way he did, moving around until she found the spot that would end him as it had her. She felt his hand tighten in its grip around her waist, bruising her as he held on for control. He stopped kissing her, enjoying the feel of the pleasure she brought him, letting his fangs slide into place, completely unnoticed by him. He barely felt them at all, the rest of his body was to on fire with lust and love and passion to notice a simple thing like blood lust at the moment. To him, it was such a basic need, it barely registered with him. Then he bent his neck to kiss her again, only realizing he'd bit her when she let out a shriek. He pulled back, almost embarrassed but found her smiling at him, amusement on her face instead of fear.

"It's okay." She tried to sooth, but he shook his head and moved to back away.

She gripped him tighter with her thighs, forcing him to stay in place. "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright. I promise." She cupped his face in her hands, locking their gazes. "The fact it happened is sweet, almost."

"Sweet?" he looked at her as if she'd fallen from the sky.

"Yes. You were so lost in the moment you barely even noticed. You let your humanity take over for a moment, let yourself feel my body instead of crave my blood."

He quirked his eyebrow at her, searching her eyes to make sure that she was really okay. When she appeared fine, he smirked. "I don't see a blood bag when I look at you."

"I know." She pressed her palm to his cheek, watching as his eyes closed and he pressed into her touch. "I don't mind if you drink from me though."

Damon looked down at her again, then slowly bent to her neck, licking the two thin trails of blood that had been falling down her neck. She stiffened in his arms, but he didn't bite again. He merely pulled back and smiled at her. "You taste incredible."

"What do I taste like?"

Damon thought for a moment, toying with the hem of her dress. Why hadn't he taken that off yet? "Heaven. Sunshine. Beauty. Passion."

Elena blushed. Each word he said sent chills down her spine because for a moment she saw herself the way Damon saw her. "What do you taste like?"

The question slipped off her tongue before she meant it to, but there was no point in taking it back now. Damon just stared at her for a moment before he bit into his wrist and offered it to her. "Only if you want."

Elena chewed her bottom lip, watching the wound already healing itself. She knew from Katherine that chances like this did not last long and a moment later she'd closed her lips around the bite, drinking him in. Literally. Damon's eyes closed, his free hand gripping the table as he locked his knees to keep from collapsing. The small amount of her blood already in his system, mixed with the heat of her body pressing against his and the sensation of her tongue on his skin, of the strong muscles of her lips and throat as she sucked had his head spinning. After a minute he pulled back, easing her away. She gasped for air, her chest heaving as she fought to steady her heart. They were fully dressed, but she'd never felt like she'd been so intimate with someone in her life. "Wow."

"What do I taste like?"

Elena thought hard. She really wanted to do him justice, but she just couldn't find beautiful enough words. "Temptation. Danger. Lust. Magic."

He grinned, leaning down to kiss her. "You forget a few things."

"I'm sure I did." She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding them together for a few minutes. The bite on her neck twinged, and as if sensing it he looked down. He watched it close, knowing his blood had healed her and feeling a little sad he hadn't gotten more before she'd done that.

"There is always more." She teased, running her hands over his chest again. "What do you say you take me upstairs and I'll show you something else."

"What do you say we stay right here?" his eyes glinted and she let out another shriek as he lifted her up, holding her tight to his body as he rushed her against the wall. "Remember the night at the hotel?"

She nodded, breathless from the force when she'd hit. "Yes."

"I wanted you to badly that night. If Jeremy hadn't come outside…"

Elena nodded again, tugging his shirt over his head, her hot breath fanning over his face. "I know. Trust me, I know."

Elena's flowery sundress was on the floor next to his black t-shirt a moment later, her body perfectly displayed for him as flushed, bare skin. The fact that she'd been naked beneath the dress the entire time sent fire through his veins and he found himself gripping her harder. "Where you planning this or something?"

Her blush deepened, spreading all over her body. "Not exactly planning it, more like…hoping."

He'd never seen anything cuter than an embarrassed Elena. Nothing more erotic than a naked, flushed, embarrassed Elena. "What else were you hoping?"

"That you wouldn't ruin this with talking. That, that tongue of yours wouldn't screw this up for the both of us."

He smirked then, and she felt her pulse pound just a little faster. "I don't think my tongue will be ruining anything tonight. Screwing however…"

Damon let his point linger as he slid his hands beneath her thighs. He tapped into his strength, something he did his best to suppress when she was around him; for both their sakes. Now however, he might need it. Elena watched, with wide, lust filled eyes as Damon held her in place, bending down so that her legs fell over his shoulder. Then his hands flattened over her stomach, pinning her to the wall and holding her tight. Surprising herself, she felt fairly safe. Before she could say so, or ask exactly what he was planning on doing to her, he'd dipped his head between her thighs and the tongue she'd been damning a moment ago swept over her aching wetness. She cried out, her hands fisting in his hair as she searched desperately for something to hold on to.

A few times their eyes connected, but only when he risked a glance up and she managed to fight her eyes open to look down at him. Otherwise he was concentrating on bringing out more of those screams and she was focused fully on the pleasure he was giving her. She'd been tasted like this only once before and it had never, ever been like this. This was beyond erotic, slightly kinky and just a little unbelievable. Never in a million fantasies had she ever imagined herself being the meal in Damon's kitchen, especially when the main course wasn't her blood. When Damon felt the muscles in her thighs tighten, her fingers tug his hair rougher and heard a few choice curses fall from her lips, he knew she was close. The personal need to satisfy himself had him debating letting her down and finishing her off another way, but she demanded more the moment he halted his licking.

Damon kissed and sucked, listening to the blood race in her veins and her heart pound in her chest. She was so alive, she was so…human. He was almost jealous, wondering if she felt more pleasure because wasn't undead. Any thoughts were cut short though when she screamed out his name and he was forced to hold her tighter as she came above him. Her limbs shook and her body went nearly limp in his arms as he lowered her back down, folding her legs around his hips and pressing his forehead against hers. She let her head drop back against the wall, fighting to catch her breath, her hands almost weak against his shoulders as she searched for some strength to hold on. "That, was, amazing." She breathed, looking up at him when he chuckled.

"I'll be waiting to polish my trophy."

She managed enough energy to slap his chest. "Go to hell."

He only laughed, pressing his lips to her cheek and gently guiding them over to one of the dining room chairs. Elena wasn't sure when he'd managed to slip his pants off, but she knew he must have because when he settled her on his lap all she felt was heat and flesh. The sensation sparked something inside her and she found herself squirming in anticipation within minutes. At first they just kissed, enjoying the afterglow she was currently in. Damon's fingertips lightly drew designs on her back, feeling the faint sheen of sweat that had erupted over her. He thought of saying something like he'd done all the work, why was so she sweaty but he kept his mouth shut and kissed her.

Then she started rocking her hips back and forth above him, her moves becoming increasingly more urgent, more persistent and more obvious with each one. Damon felt the head slip into her, just slightly. The wet heat of her arousal screamed at him, called to him and pulled him over the edge of control. She gasped, biting down hard on his shoulder when their bodies finally joined. The teasing they'd put each other through already today had been enough for them. The teasing they'd put each other through the last few years had been enough for them. There was the primal need to be joined, the emotional temptation of the bond that could only be created through an act like this. And they satisfied both while communicating just how much they loved each other.

Their hook up against the wall had been heated. It had been hot and sticky and dirty. This, this was something entirely different. The moment Damon found himself surrounded by Elena completely, the world shifted just a little more. He saw more clearly, and he wanted more deeply. He held her tighter, more possessively and he kissed her as if each could be his last. They weren't having sex, they weren't fucking. They were making love, and they were doing a damn good job of it. Elena's nails dug into his arms as she held on, moving herself over him. Damon could feel the wood pillars of the chair digging into him, but he didn't care. He just kept thrusting with her, moving with her; loving with her. Pleasure came before exhaustion, but just before. Elena felt the now familiar tingles of exploding pleasure deep within her and buried her face in his neck, muffling the sound of her screams. Damon fisted his hand in her hair, gripping her waist with the other and rocked them both over the edge and under.

When the world had settled and the axis had found it's way back home, Elena lifted her head up and smiled at him, almost sleepily. "Now will you take me upstairs?"

He laughed, cradling her naked body close to his. "Why, are you tired?"

She looked up at him through half closed eyes and nodded. "I feel like I've died and gone to heaven."

"Now you know how I've felt since the moment I laid eyes on you." Elena thought back to what he'd said about her taste. _Heaven. _He'd saved her countless times, but no more than she'd saved him.

She realized that now. Salvatore might mean savior, but even those meant to protect needed someone to bring them back to life sometimes.

_a/n: I really wanted this written before the season finale, but it just didn't happen. My apologies for that. I won't talk about the episode here, but know that I wrote every word up until the smut before last night. I had no idea that Elena would (SPOILERS)die/turn or that Klaus would shift into Tyler's body._

_And to be honest, I'm glad that I didn't because I don't think I could have written this without the finale influencing me. Hope you liked it, maybe even loved it. Especially those that it's dedicated to. Look forward to all the future one shots I've got coming up and the sequel to 'Time of Our Love'. (it now has a title, but I'm not releasing it just yet)._


End file.
